


In Which Bluestreak Arrives on Earth (Kind Of)

by inkand_paper (Fabuest)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabuest/pseuds/inkand_paper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shuttle with four Autobots on it approaches Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Bluestreak Arrives on Earth (Kind Of)

**Author's Note:**

> Somebody once asked me for fic of TF:P Bluestreak arriving on Earth. I don't remember who it was. I had a plan for this fic, but it's probably never going to be finished so here, enjoy what there is of it.

“Unknown vessel, this is Autobot outpost Omega-1. Identify yourself.”  
  
“Primus,” Bluestreak gasped. “That's Optimus Prime.”  
  
Mirage shot him a quelling look before turning back to the console with its blinking communications screen.  
  
“Autobot outpost Omega-1, this is Special Operations Agent Mirage, acting commander of the star ship _Acquisition_. This vessel is heavily shielded by the most recent iteration of cloaking field technology; I am curious as to how you detected us.”  
  
A loud, jovial voice carried across the connection, slightly fuzzed over by static indicating that the speaker was a little too far from the console. “I like this guy. He's funny.”  
  
“Would you be _quiet_ , Bulkhead. If I can verify – yes, additional scans show that there _is_ a cloaking field in use, and a fairly sophisticated one. I've seen newer, but in Cybertron's last days this _was_ advanced technology. Optimus, if I may?”  
  
“By all means, old friend,” invited the voice which had first hailed them.  
  
“I _told_ you that was Optimus Prime,” Bluestreak whispered triumphantly.  
  
“Agent Mirage, the device you are using appears to be broadcasting a small, constantly shifting three dimensional cloaking field around your ship, which should shield you from detection. The problem is that it is only broadcasting across a given range of electromagnetic frequencies, none of which are the common scanning frequencies in this system.”  
  
“Ratchet – if we can detect the _Acquisition_ , it is likely that the Decepticons can do the same. The ship and its occupants may be in grave danger.”  
  
“I was getting to that. If we can determine-”  
  
The transmission cut off suddenly, and static hissed through the speakers. Mirage winced and lowered the volume, then brought up the cloaking field's control screen, frowning. They'd had to reduce the field's broadcasting scope to save on energon. If it was not providing adequate protection...  
  
“Mirage? If the Decepticons find us, I don't know if I-”  
  
“Don't worry about it, Bluestreak,” Mirage interrupted, trying to determine how much he could increase the cloaking field's range with their current power supplies. The radiation from this system's star would help, but without knowing which frequencies needed to be covered, increasing the power output would be a risky gamble.  
  
“But-”  
  
“No, listen to me. If the Decepticons find us, they're not going to bother with boarding a ship this small. They find us, we die, no fighting necessary – they'll just blow us up and that'll be the end of it.”  
  
“You slagging aft!” Sunstreaker snarled, and Mirage's electrodisrupter flickered on in startled self defense – when had Sunstreaker entered the bridge? “Why would you say that to him? You know how he is!”  
  
“It's the truth!” Mirage snapped, “and if he can't deal with that, he should never have taken on that symbol! I have enough to deal with right now without coddling a half grown sparkling-”  
  
“I'm not a _sparkling_ ,” Bluestreak protested-  
  
“-and I have ordered _you_ time and again to stay off of the bridge. Your destructive attitude contributes _nothing_ to the running of this ship-”  
  
“ _My_ destructive attitude?” Sunstreaker interrupted, incredulous. “I'm not the one that just told the kid we're all going to die and there's nothing anyone can do about it!”  
  
“I'm not a kid!”  
  
“-and if your insubordination continues,” Mirage persisted, as if he had never been interrupted, “you _will_ face the appropriate punishment.”  
  
“Insubordination,” Sunstreaker snorted. “You're not my commanding officer.”  
  
“Your commanding officer is _dead_ ,” Mirage spat.  
  
The console beeped brightly, and the communication screen lit up again. “Agent Mirage, acting commander of the Acquisition, this is Optimus Prime of Autobot outpost Omega-1. Please identify your planet of origin.”  
  
In a nanoklik, Mirage went from bristling and acidic to calm and composed. “I and my crew are originally from Cybertron,” he reported. “We were stationed on Planet D3-104 of System 13, in Sector 7.”  
  
“The outpost there fell to the Decepticons centuries ago,” the voice Prime had identified as Ratchet spoke up.  
  
“Yes,” Mirage confirmed. “To my knowledge, we are the only survivors.”  
  
There was a pause. “How many of you are there?” Prime eventually asked.  
  
“Myself, and three others.”  
  
“Four,” Ratchet breathed. “An outpost of thousands, and four survived.”  
  
“Haven't you heard from anyone else?” Bluestreak cried. “There have to be others, we weren't the only shuttle, they ordered an evacuation!”  
  
“There may well be other survivors,” Prime assured him. “We are but one outpost among a vast universe. Without a central planet about which to rally, news travels slowly.”  
  
“Optimus, we were still based on Cybertron when that outpost fell. Surely if there were others?”  
  
“And yet we did not learn of these survivors until today. Can we justify losing hope now?”  
  
“With all due respect, Prime, we lost hope long ago.” Mirage frowned. “Blustreak is young and naive; the rest of us know better. The whole of Sector 7 is under Decepticon control, and the grey frames of Autobots float in zero-g like so much jettisoned trash. There are no others.”  
  
“If that is truly how you feel, there is nothing I can say which will give you back your faith,” Prime said. “However, as the leader of the Autobots, I cannot allow myself to give in to grief and despair. I must continue to believe that those who follow me still live, and I must continue to fight for their freedom.”  
  
Mirage nodded. “I understand. Your determination is admirable.”  
  
“As is yours, Agent Mirage. You and your crew have survived against insurmountable odds; I commend your courage. Please, set your course for Earth, the third planet from this system's star. We will provide you with landing coordinates when you are closer.”  
  
“And for Primus' sake, change the settings on your cloaking field!” Ratchet told them. “You need to cover frequencies 88 to 108, 1000 to 2000, and the full colour spectrum, from infrared to ultraviolet, at the very _least_.”  
  
“I will take your advice to spark, Prime, Ratchet. We will be in contact again soon.”  
  
The transmission ended, and Mirage whirled around, glaring at Sunstreaker. “And why are you still on the bridge?”  
  
\---  
  
“We have no way of verifying that these mechs are who they say they are,” Optimus said, levelling a disapproving look on Ratchet. “To lose contact with them is potentially dangerous.”  
  
“Well, what would you have me do?” Ratchet argued. “Leave them as sitting technoducks in a turbofox's hunting grounds? If they are who they say they are, they're in just as much danger as we are.”  
  
“Who's to say this isn't a Decepticon trap?” Arcee asked. “The outpost they claim to be from... Ratchet said that base fell centuries ago. The survivors show up _now_?”  
  
Optimus' nod was all approval. “Given Starscream's recent attempt to gain access to our base through Wheeljack's arrival, can we risk taking in these mechs?”  
  
“Oh, puh- _lease_. Did that young mech sound like a hardened Decepticon killer to any of you?” Ratchet asked acidly. “Optimus, you're the one who was just preaching faith and hope to those mechs. Now I may not be an expert, but it looks to me like you still have _faith_ , and you still have _hope_ , but somewhere along the line, you lost your _trust_ , and what good are faith and hope without trust?”  
  
\---  
  
 _Ping. Ping. Ping._  
  
Starscream straightened from where he had been leaning against the ship's main console, tapping distractedly at the keyboard. “The medic has arrived?”  
  
“ _Autobot outpost Omega-1, this is Special Operations Agent Mirage, acting commander of the star ship_ Acquisition.”  
  
“Mirage.” Starscream's claws closed into fists, his wings flared, and his mouth tightened into a frown. “How is that possible?”  
  
There was only silence from Soundwave. No explanation for the agent's survival, then.  
  
“Are there any others?”  
  
“ _Myself, and three others_ ,” Soundwave reported in Mirage's voice.  
  
“Well. That's not _so_ bad. Still, they must be dealt with. Do you know who the survivors are?”  
  
“ _Bluestreak is young and naive._ ” The recording ended crisply, followed by a low hiss of static. Starscream scowled; knowing the identity of only two of the four survivors could be problematic.  
  
“Find out who else is aboard that vessel,” he ordered. “I want to know if they can be of any use to us. Otherwise, they will be terminated before they have a chance to join Optimus Prime's little group of nuisances.”


End file.
